


Moving Day

by LipstickAndWhiskey (CopperMarigolds)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chinese Food, F/M, Fluff, References To FRIENDS, moving day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:39:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperMarigolds/pseuds/LipstickAndWhiskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean helps you move in with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> So @thing-you-do-with-that-thing on tumblr asked:  
> “If you are doing drabbles I feel like I need a moving day drabble ;) :P”

Moving was always a pain in the ass. No matter how organized you were, no matter how much bubble wrap you used, something always broke. Or got lost.

Your boyfriend was no help with the packing part, but at least he was doing all of the heavy lifting. Most of it anyway. Speaking of, you were currently wrestling with the old couch you had.

“Why aren’t we using the elevator?” you asked, hauling the couch up the first few steps. Dean huffed, the couch heavier than he remembered. “Because the damn thing’s broken. Of all times,” he grumbled.

You angled the couch up the stairs to get around the corner, telling Dean down below to ‘pivot’. Dean kept turning, grunting as his muscles flexed with the effort of lifting the couch. “Pivot!” you shouted, trying to get the couch up the steps. “I don’t think it’s going to fit, sweetheart! It’s turned all the way and it’s not fitting!” Dean shouted back up to you. “I think you’re right, babe. It’s just not going up these stairs,” you admitted.

You sighed, defeated. “Okay, let’s just get it back down then.” As soon as Dean pulled at the couch, he realized that wasn’t going to happen.

“Uh, sweetheart?” … “Yeah, Dean?”

How was he going to say it?

“It’s stuck.” Quiet hung between the two of you, tension palpable in the air.

Maniacal laughter filled the air, your cackling echoing in the stairwell. As your laughter died, Dean asked why you thought it was so funny.

“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry babe. But it actually is really funny since I hate this couch anyway.”

Dean chuckled, “Well why don’t we sell it instead? I have a couch already and we don’t really need two.”

“Alright! But I’m buying General Tso from that chinese place I like with the money from it!”

* * *

That night as you sat on the couch with Dean, watching westerns and eating chinese, you couldn’t help but feel happy he’d asked you to move in.

Plus the food was _really_ good.


End file.
